The Art Of War
by Dark Lord Potter Black
Summary: The shadows have hidden him far too long from his enemies that they have taken him for granted. No more. He shall rise above all who have taken his advantage for so long. Followers of heir, beware. The Last Potter has returned. And he shall wage a war like none before. With the Queen of Hearts by his side, all shall be well. Fourth Year. GoF. Harry/Daphne. Dark.
1. LESSON 53

_**THE ART OF WAR**_

_**Speech is Silver. Silence is golden.**_

_Speak too much and you become your own folly. Always say less than necessary for it is better to be judges for your silence than known for your words. Kepp your enemies in the dark and you will gain all the success you have ever desired._

Harry Potter wanted to laugh. Hoping for a quiet year was perhaps too much. He struggled to contain the chuckle. He looked towards his _friends. _He was met with blank looks.

He looked towards other three tables. The happy and jovial Hufflepuffs were seething. He met angry gazes that would have made him burn in hell, if he cared. He never trusted the loyal Hufflepuffs. Their loyalty was _fickle _at the very best. Last time, he had to slay a _Basilisk_ of all things to regain their trust. Everything that happened was kept under wraps, thus the whole school knew about it. He had a vague idea of why this might have happened.

The Ravenclaws were undecided, but more than a few were angry. He never liked the house of wisdom. It was more a house of highly knowledgeable people. Rowena was probably bemoaning the state of her house, like every other founder perhaps.

He did not need to look at the Slytherin House, theirs jeers were the loudest but they quietened down immediately as his eyes roved over the table. Some of them, at the very least. The Slytherins wouldn't want him to know they were enemies. Draco Malfoy sat pale. Malfoy met his gaze slowly, but steadily. He could see the fright in his eyes. _Good. _It wasn't Malfoy.

He then found himself to be end of at the end of an icy glare form Daphne Greengrass. It was full of loathing and hatred, one which would have sent anyone cowering – wishing for a merciful death. He scoffed inwardly. He had faced a Basilisk, this was a fluffy rabbit in comparison. Before he could further think about it, a voice called -

"Harry Potter – if you would come here please?"

He looked at his friends – who were still staring blankly at him. He sighed, before he got up. As he covered the distance between Gryffindor table and the top table among the bussing of angry bees, words which had faded in his memory, came to surface of his mind - echoing in his ears – _Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! _Hogwarts was his home – he didn't have a family.

His _walk of shame_ was a short one, yet it felt like an hour before he reached there. He met the angry glare of the staff members. McGonagall didn't look very happy. Snape just sneered at him, nothing new. Moody was well – Moody. He didn't know the man long enough, but he had always been cautious dealing with his Defence teachers. Sprout just gave him a look of disappointment. Flitwick was already trying to defuse the situation among other students – the Charms Professor was not only his favourite Professor, but perhaps one of the most liked professors in Hogwarts. There was a reason why.

Dumbledore wasn't smiling. This _wasn't _new, per se, but something that instilled fear in his heart. He had smiled even when he had crashed a car into the Willow. The only other time when Dumbledore didn't smile was during Chambers of Secret. This wasn't looking good. He was also at receiving end of two more glares – Karkaroff and Maxime. He tried his best not to roll his eyes.

Perhaps the most amusing was Hagrid – no smile or wink or his usual wave. He was just blinking rapidly and shaking his head, rambling about something that he couldn't discern the meaning of.

Bagman did look ecstatic. Harry wanted to throttle him and throw him off the Astronomy Tower. Something must have shown on his face, because Bagman lost his smile.

Crouch wasn't the happiest person, his face had settled into a dark look, but it was still better than Maxime or Karkaroff. Crouch still irked him. Crouch was too judgmental, and surely would have put him Azkaban if he wasn't who he was, just for being at scene of crime at the World Cup.

"Well... through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore.

He walked silently into the antechamber, amidst the constantly growing angry buzz of bees. He could care less, this was better than cold-blooded murderer, the famed Heir of Slytherin. His life was in jeopardy, but it wasn't fun without it. He relished in the small pleasure while it lasted.

Fleur Delacour, Victor Krum and Cedric Diggory, all stood around the handsomely roaring fire in the fireplace – looking strangely impressive. Time to face the music.

"What is it?" Fleur Delacour asked as she tossed her hair in a very enticing fashion. He almost cursed her, just for the sake of it. "Do dey want us back in de Hall?"

He didn't reply. He knew he was probably being rude – but they were enemies now. _Know your enemies._ He vaguely registered they were all taller than him. He shook his head and proceeded to walk towards the window and stare out of it. The cool breeze that blew against his face made him relax a bit, slightly lowering his heightened heart rate. _Merlin, he fucking hadn't even noticed his own heart rate._

He knew his position put him in a disadvantage, he couldn't scout their emotions – but he had better things to worry about. And, they were enemies now, so he should be perturbed if they were friendly. He looked at the magnificent grounds of Hogwarts. He had called this place home once, he still did. He wondered if it was worth the trouble. He knew Ron wouldn't be very accepting. Hermione, he hoped she would be. The tournament would be mightily easier with his friends watching his back.

"Extraordinary! How Extraordinary!" a voice which was more jovial then Petunia when she was gossiping intruded his thoughts. He closed his eyes to block out the building headache. "Let me introduce you the fourth champion!"

Harry turned faster than he did on a broom to glare at the obviously happy man. What was so joyous about this he wondered – glaring at the idiot. The effect of the glare was not lost. The cowardly man shut up. Bagman was probably not much better than Pettigrew. He had done enough damage, by just existing. It would have been nice if Dumbledore would have cleared things up a bit.

Krum had a dark look on his face, but he was silent.

Diggory looked nonplussed, while Delacour looked like she would like nothing better than claw out his eyes.

Delacour was impulsive, while Diggory was too slow to comprehend the situation and react. Krum was bad news – the look probably didn't mean well for his health.

"Come again, sir?" Cedric asked politely. Harry almost snorted. At least he knew he might have a _friend._

"Oh... err," Bagman chanced a look at Harry, before he said, "Harry's name came out of the Goblet of Fire."

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously. "E is too young. 'E cannot compete."

Harry did roll his eyes.

The door opened again and Dumbledore, Maxime, Karkaroff, Crouch and McGonagall marched in. Snape following them closely, looking faintly amused, not something that a novice could tell. McGonagall swiftly shut the antechamber, cutting out the angry noises.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!" She_ is quite impulsive, she would fall sooner than the rest. A Gryffindor._

Oh, this was going to be fun. He leaned slightly against the sill, remembering that window was open. The cool breeze kept reminding him.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

_Dumbly-dorr? Didn't she say it properly a few days ago? Children_, Harry scoffed mentally.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "Two Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions – or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh.

Harry doubted the idiot could read at all. What was his problem with Dumbledore anyways?

"C'est impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder.

_Opals, huh?_

"'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place, though his eyes were colder than ever.

_Another sociopath to deal with, huh? _

"Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly.

Harry simply rolled his eyes. The fucker had to say his piece of mind.

Snape's black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here —"

"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair.

Dumbledore was now looking down at Harry, who looked right back at him, trying to discern the expression of the eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asked calmly.

Harry shook his head calmly. He was very aware of everybody watching him closely. He wanted to shout and rave at Dumbledore for even doubting him. He kept his mouth shut, like any good manipulator.

Snape made a soft noise of impatient disbelief in the shadows. _Bastard. _He made sure his face was calm and composed.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" said Professor Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

_Idiots. That wouldn't even work. He was sure Dumbledore knew that. He was probably asking to appease others. _

He shook his head again. Again, _slowly. _

Did he need to spell it out, he thought Dumbledore would believe him after Chamber of Secrets. He wished people trusted him more. He had stayed in shadows of Dumbledore too long because it was easy, but now it was time to speak.

Dumbledore was weak, he just needed to attack at the right moment. He had waited three years for this, occluding his thoughts from the old bastard, displaying an image of pure 'Gryffindor-ishness'.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Fleur nodded.

Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that —"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

Harryblink_. Right, Dumbledore. _Was it possible the old man had added his name to the goblet?

Before McGonagall could reply, Harry cut her off with a sarcastic drawl – "Of course, and I have slain a Basilisk and fought a hundred Dementors." Harry did an exaggerated eye roll.

His sudden willingness to speak had drawn all the attention towards him – this time, on his terms. He was met with astonished looks, even from the angry French Veela along with some amused looks from Dumbledore.

"What?" he asked politely. "I thought we were stating ridiculously impossible things."

His polite tone was met with bewildered looks. Dumbledore truly looked amused, despite the situation. He had stated true things as a farce and yet also had reminded the Headmaster of his previous acts of chivalry and nobility. Or so-called.

Snape was smirking, akin to a man who had just completed a very difficult puzzle. His eyes looking far too amused for Harry liking.

Harry decided not to dwell on it. This was the same man who moments ago wanted to have him skinned.

Fleur Delacour snapped out of her stupor and snarled, "Zis is not ze time to joke!"

"Then, we agree that it was impossible for me to enter my name into Goblet of Fire." He gave a nod of acknowledgment and a smile as he finished.

He watched in fascinated horror as his trickery had played off. A blank look – then realization dawned upon her, and her face twisted into an angry look. But he wouldn't perceive it as anger, it was an uncontrollable rage – one of epic proportions. One which overrode her inhibitions, one which made her looked more feral, one which wouldn't mind him dead.

_Like all horrors, how could this be any less fascinating?_

Her eyes changed colour from blue to fiery red. _A Veela! _He had completely forgotten. Her fingertips were on fire, slowly forming into a fireball.

"Miss Delacour!" An angry hiss stopped her from frying him.

_Snape?_

_Wait for it, _Harry told himself.

"As much as I want to see Potter burnt like a -"

_Gotcha! _

"Severus!" McGonagall exclaimed, glaring at the Potions Master.

"Fleur," Madam Maxime placed a hand on her shoulder, and she calmed down, red spots still blotching her cheeks.

"Mr. Crouch . . . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our — er — objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadows.

Crouch simply said he had to participate causing another argument.

Harry ignored the incessant chattering, in favour of closing his eyes. Someone had put his name in the Goblet of Fire, the question was who? More importantly why? The only conclusion he could draw was that he was supposed to die in the tournament. Something was clearly amiss.

One name came to the mind – Voldemort. The dream suddenly became clearer.

"_One more murder – my faithful servant at Hogwarts... Harry Potter is as good as mine."_

He eyes flew open, blood drained from his face, and his hands were shaking. Not even the cool breeze could calm him down. He noticed Moody had entered the room and was keen to put Karkaroff in Azkaban. He took a deep breath and steadied his hands. He noticed Krum's gaze on him, it looked _concerned? _He glared at the Bulgarian, who averted his eyes, suddenly looking bored.

Why was he even surprised? Of course, Voldemort had something to do with it.

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot and pointing a finger at him. "'E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honor for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — zis is a chance many would die for!"

_Eternal glory? Thousand Galleons? _Harry looked at her incredulously. He had never heard of the _ fucking _Tournament, let alone it's glorified _Champions. _And he had enough money to last a lifetime. _His family was into real estate for last twelve centuries, for Merlin's sake._

He let out a snort.

"What is eet, boy?" She snarled.

"The fact that someone's hoping I am gonna die for it," He stated calmly, leaving the room into an extremely tense silence.

_Idiots. Bunch of them._

"Preposterous!" Karkaroff bellowed. "Who would try to kill – "

"I certainly hope it's not you," Moody growled, "Given your prev-"

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. But, something else came to the forefront of Harry's mind.

_Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see._

Igor Karkaroff was a _fucking _Death Eater. He would have to thank Malfoy for that.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room.

"It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do. . . ."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr —"

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Breaking his thoughts away from numerous way to murder the Durmstrang Headmaster, Harry spoke as politely as he could – "If I may?"

Dumbledore looked at him warily, as if knowing what he was going to suggest. He could care less now. He need to prove his worth, he wasn't going to portray his innocent image any longer.

"We might as well listen to it," Cedric supplied when no one seemed to reply.

"Very well then, Mr. Potter," said Dumbledore, solemnly.

"How about two more Champions, one from each school but not bound by any contract?"

"That would be against the rules, Mr. Potter!" Crouch protested.

"So are four champions, Meester Crouch," said Maxime. "It is an acceptable solution. Igor?"

Still red faced, Karkaroff nodded.

"Dumbly-dorr?"

Time seemed to speed up as his mind went into overdrive, trying to figure out how had he gotten involved in this mess, all the while he was twirling his wand.

He currently had six primary suspects – Karkaroff, Snape, Crouch, Bagman, Dumbledore, Moody and a secondary one – some student. He hoped it wasn't the latter. It would be a mess with foreign students. Karkaroff, because he was a Death Eater. Snape was, well, Snape. Crouch and Bagman were unknown entities. Dumbledore was eccentric and Moody was DADA Professor.

Pettigrew was there too, but Harry hardly believed him competent – yet he would keep an eye out. The Map needed some improvements. What further irked him was he wasn't entirely sure of the motive. Was it as simple as someone wanting him dead. Perhaps, there was more to it.

The vast, green and glittering Dark Mark from the Quidditch World Cup was still burning fresh in his memory. This could hardly be a coincidence. And, there was also the case of Crouch's _elf_.

The Dream. The Mark. And, the Goblet of Fire. Whatever it was, it wasn't a priority right now. He would need all the help if he need to stay alive. Hermione and Ron would –

"Mr. Potter?"

Annoyed, at having his train of thought interrupted, he turned from away from the pleasant view of the moonlit sky to the room which seemed even duller and sullen than before. He noticed two new faces – six champions then. He wasn't really in the mood to size up his enemies right now. He quickly memorized their faces, before he met Dumbledore's steady gaze with one of his own.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" Bagman said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Six of them now, huh? Good Lord! Barty, want to do the honours?"

Harry almost raised an eyebrow at that. He had never heard someone use 'Good Lord!' in wizarding world. _Interesting_.

He did note their names: Artemis Grande from Beauxbatons. And, Helena from Durmstrang. Strangely, Helena didn't have a last name, or at least she refused to tell. It was most curious.

Helena met his gaze and gave him a feral grin and waved. Harry rose an eyebrow and gave a nod. _Very interesting. Hmm. _

"Ah, yes. The First Task needs some changes due to," Crouch paused, as searched for a word to describe this blunder, "...complications."

"Let's discuss this at length later, Barty," suggested Dumbledore. "You all are requested to attend the wand weighing ceremony, that shall be held tomorrow after lunch."

Harry was the first person to leave the room, with Cedric following him closely. Harry chanced a look at the Hufflepuff and he knew, that the night had barely even begun.

"So?" Cedric asked, with a tight smile. "We will be playing against each other again."

"I suppose," said Harry. "I apologise, Cedric. I hope, you understand. I know you are probably the better candidate but yeah," he shrugged. "My life tends to revolve around life threatening situations, you know – Quirell, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius Black, Dementors and now this," he made a weird motion, not really caring if it made any sense. He had succeeded, he knew that.

Cedric gave a laugh and loosened up. "No worries, you don't really seem to me like someone who would do such thing."

_No you fool, I am exactly the person who would do such a thing, just not this once. _Harry smiled.

"I will go easy on you just for that," he joked to which Cedric chuckled.

"Don't. I am gonna win this," said Cedric confidently.

_Like hell you are_._ I am hardly going to lose to school children. _Harry gave a small smile. "Oh, I will be happy to survive the entire thing. With my thrice damned luck, I would be surprised if I win by pure accident."

Cedric chuckled and patted him on the back. "I will ask the Hufflepuffs to lay off you."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully. "Uh, isn't Hufflepuff common room on ground floor?"

"Yes. But how would you know that now?" Cedric asked curiously. "I didn't know that was common knowledge."

"Fred and George. Obviously. So, where are you going?"

"The Ravenclaw tower. To see Cho, _you know_," Cedric added the last part suggestively.

_Ah! Cho Chang – the Ravenclaw seeker._

"I don't think I want to," Harry replied dryly, to which Cedric chuckled. They had stopped at the diversion for their destinations.

"Keep it under wraps though, don't want rumours now do we?" Cedric winked.

"Yeah, make sure you tell her about the blunder. I don't want her murdering me for standing against her man." And, the Ravenclaws would know so too.

"Will do," Cedric smiled. "See you around?"

"Like I have got any choice," Harry snorted. "Till tomorrow then?"

Cedric nodded and went his merry way.

At the very least that went well. He still had Gryffindors to make peace with. At least the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were sorted – given Cedric keeps his word.

_**A/N**_

_**This story will probably be a small one. Let's see. Dunno.**_


	2. LESSON 47

_**THE ART OF WAR**_

**LESSON 47**

_**YOU WILL ALWAYS BE SURROUNDED BY YOUR FRIENDS AND ENEMIES ALIKE. DO NOT PUT YOUR TRUST IN EITHER, OR YOU WILL FIND YOURSELF TO HAVE DUG YOUR OWN GRAVE.**_

"Oh Harry," Hermione hugged me tightly as I walked into the empty classroom, we had used over years for our private meetings.

I looked over her shoulder to see Ron sitting on a desk in the dimly lit room, his legs crossed. A small smile adored his face. How long they had come. I still remember when three of us had saved the Philosopher's stone. Ron had taken an axe to his head and thankfully survived. _It was too late to care now._

"You son of a bitch! You have got the Devil's luck, haven't you?" asked Ron with a laugh.

Hermione broke free and glared at Ron, while I laughed, tension leaving me. The night suddenly felt much easier. "Glad you think so, you buffoon!"

Hermione just crossed her arms and muttered something, which sounded like '_Boys'_.

I smiled at her _fondly_. I _need_ them now more than ever.

"So, let's get rolling?" I asked.

Hermione rose an eyebrow, "Aren't you gonna tell us what happened?"

"Let's enjoy the peace today," I suggested, knowing very well how we weren't going to do that. "How are things in Gryffindor?"

"Fred and George were being over dramatic," Ron rolled his eyes. "Praising you to be next Dark Lord – gits." _Might as well be true, _a dark thought ventured to the forefront of my mind. I am sure the same went through my friends' mind.

"And, then there was McLaggen," Hermione sighed.

"Well, he is jerk," I shrugged.

"You should have thrown him off the tower last year," Ron muttered under his breath, to which Hermione glared.

_Satisfying but hardly worth the trouble._

"Easy," I warned. An argument was the last thing I wanted right now. They both turned to me – gazes apologetic.

"Oh yes, you were about to tell us what happened."

I sighed, as I flopped down an uncomfortable chair. "I didn't enter my name." I knew I wouldn't hesitate. Their betrayal was still fresh in my mind.

"You didn't?" Ron asked, surprised.

"If I say I didn't, then I didn't," Harry snapped.

"But – yes – well, you are known to be reckless, and we thought it was some grand scheme of yours," Hermione explained. Ron just looked away, knowing what was coming. I had given him enough guilt trips along the holidays. A small one wouldn't harm now – perhaps, one of his last for this term.

I looked them both in the eye, before I began, "Look I know, trust between us isn't what it used to be, _with what happened last year." _I paused to judge their reactions. I hadn't brought up what had happened, with Hermione. She was girl – being far more emotional and hormonal than Ron, and lack of testosterone made it easier to manipulate her. Small guilt trips were good enough. "But we still have hope." _Hope? _I really need to think before I speak. _Hope was always too fragile. _This would be enough. Ron had a determined gaze even before I began. And, Hermione – never tell her too much, I have learnt that. It just complicates the matter. She was far too smart.

"So?" I asked after a moment.

"I have a plan," Ron smiled evilly. I replied with a feral grin, and Hermione suddenly looked wary.

The common room was quite empty, when I arrived. I had taken a trip to the Owlery, posting a letter to Sirius and another one to Daphne. I still haven't read the letter I got from her this morning. Enchanted, so only I could read. Hiding a relationship was difficult. They were always so close, yet so far and untouched.

I brought it close to my face, and smelled it slowly. Like always, it was sprayed with Amortentia. It is probably one of the most seductive scents I have ever inhaled. An aroma that could leave one enchanted, yet delightfully blissful in such a manner that it made the clocks tick yet the time didn't pass.

I took in her neat calligraphic scrawl for a moment – elegant curls where they prided themselves, the divine turns where ink flowed from a river into a small stream of stirred delight – turning and twisting, then enchanting his heart.

I have always mourned the loss of her blood – this once being no different. The crimsonness of the ink gnawing at my heart, leaving it in a state of pained detachment. I have begged so often for her not to do so – my pleas falling on deaf ears. My beloved was as stubborn as me, perhaps even more.

_My oblivious Prince,_

_Your kindness claimed earlier gratitude – but I was occupied – and now I write from my pillow. I was delighted that you remembered about white roses – and endured hardship to have them sent. It left me in a state of bliss and nostalgia. An eternity seems to have passed since we had that conversation. _

_The question that broke us off is still afresh on my mind. But, do not believe for a moment we shall not have the word that you have evaded – for now, I shall let go. _

_You ask why I was troubled before. Samhain approaches. Halloween isn't been known to be merciful to us. Thirteen isn't been known to be lucky – the years since his fall. Troll. Chamber. Black. What more evidence do you require. You do not believe in Divine powers of Magic – but I do, thus I am troubled by it. Though, I do not blame you for having a worldview that isn't mine – but, Trelawney, the uneducated that she is – so you cannot you blame me._

_Luck has been an ally to you – but it isn't infinite, my dearest. This year the energies are darker than before – the dream of yours holds a key, find it and a mystery might not be one anymore. I hope your skills are progressing better than mine – the last few days haven't been entirely smooth. Tracey is always here – she helps, but it does not fill the void that your absence creates, my love._

_I expect an answer – I doubt my worries are unfounded... Take care, like you have done so far._

_I haven't put down as much that would have appeased me – but sleep claims me, perhaps weariness of the day proves to be greater than my usual enthusiasm. I shall dearly await your reply._

_May Death be merciful to your enemies. _

_Yours Valencia_

I sighed. I should have read the letter before I sent one. It had only two words: _**CODE RED**_.

She would probably be pissed, but it was for the best. Her worries weren't unfounded, like always. Yet, my belief in Divination was as good as that in the God. I had stopped believing in God, when I was condemned to Hell for ten years. Perhaps, the best thing that happened to me – yet, a hell's a hell.

Daphne is not expendable. I would protect her with my life if I needed to. I spent three years – three long years, to reach where I am today. My beloved. I had pulled out every dirty trick in the book, so did she and she had won – for once I did not care. She was much better at this than I would ever be. We were both ruthless manipulators. While her talents were in that of People, mine were in War. For so long, I have treated every day of life as War. Now, it seems losing isn't an option but rather Death.

I am lay on my bed, hours had passed – yet, I was so deep in thought, the journey to common room seemed a moment too short and the stares a bit too unnoticed. Sleep would do me good.

But, sleep was rather traitorous when I needed it the most. I changed my side – again and again, and yet again – to no end. Dropping Occlumency shields could have helped, but I feared for another dream.

Thus, I woke up next morning exhausted, tired and strangely depressed. On hindsight, depression wasn't so strange. Yesterday had caught me off guard.

The people were gaping at me. Gryffindors were not glaring at me, that was enough for now. Slytherins were hostile – but not so openly, as they were in second year. Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws – well, they were better than Slytherins. I couldn't care less about them. I ate my breakfast amongst the hushed whispers, that was until Diggory came over.

"Would you terribly mind if I sit here?" he asked politely.

_Huh? Why not, why not Cedric. My new __**friend.**_

"Would you leave me alone if I say yes and show my gratitude?" I retorted.

"Uh, yes?" Diggory asked hesitantly.

"Sit down for Merlin's sake!" I shook my head.

Diggory laughed plopped himself down next to him. Fred and George were quick to join him.

"Fraternising with the enemy, are we?" Fred asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That almost seems Slytherin, don't you think Fred." George narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, yes brother mine. Here, I thought Cedric was a nice Puff."

_If he has a single evil bone in his body then I might as well be Satan reincarcerated._

I rolled my eyes. "Lay off, you two. We have enough troubles as it is."

Cedric smiled, "Always a pleasure meeting you guys."

My eyes lingered upon the entrance for a moment, before venturing towards the Slytherin table. Malfoy sat there alone. Away from his friends and the Durmstang students, eating in silence. _That is a strange development. _

Daphne hasn't arrived yet. Krum was looking towards or table with an inquisitive gaze. I ignored him as my eyes landed upon the other champion. Helena. She was busy eating her food. The girl unnerved me a bit for some reason.

Some of the Beauxbatons were glaring at me. Whispering. No surprise there. A grin found its way on my face I saw Delacour's haughty stare. Cho Chang was surprisingly absent.

Diggory raised an eyebrow at him. I had spent less than few seconds to look around, but the tall boy had picked it up. _Not a complete idiot then. Just an honest to god Hufflepuff._

"How was the rendezvous that of yours, Cedric?" I smirked. _Diversion_. "Fun night?"

It was amusing to see Diggory flush.

The effect was instantaneous. Fred and George latched upon him, giving me the peace to have my breakfast. It was certainly entertaining to see Cedric squirm uncomfortably.

_It also gave me the time to think about the next course of action._

"So, where are Ron and Hermione?" someone asked from next to me. I looked up and blinked. _Katie._

I hadn't seen her slide next to me._ You are_ _being careless, Potter._ Strangely the voice sounded like Snape's. It made my insides curl and lurch.

"Ron's probably getting ready. Hermione is in the Library," I lied through his teeth. _They were in the Kitchens, eating. Staging the fallout._ "We had a bit of disagreement."

"About what?" Fred askes as the twins placed themselves in front of me.

"Leaving Hogwarts," I could feel the hint of whispers grow around them. "Ron and Hermione think it might be good idea," I continued. I could only wonder how Dumbledore would take the news. Thank god, the three of them were smart enough to learn Occlumency when Daphne had suggested they do so in their first year.

Of course, I was a wound that I was happy to open and reopen to remind his friends of their carelessness. While the Basilisk venom in my blood stream had negated any kind of influences Potions could have on me – Dobby usually took care that our food wasn't spiked.

"Not a bad idea," Cedric commented remembering the weird things that kept happening in Hogwarts. I just glared at him. Cedric just raised his hands, "Just saying. Look at all the troubles you have had here."

I shrugged.

The first two phases of Code Red were successful.

"I doubt it would help Harry Potter, anyways," George smirked. "Trouble follows you."

"And, Mom wouldn't let Ron change schools," Fred added.

I snorted. _As if that was going to stop us._

"We have the Wand Weighing ceremony today," Cedric said as he tried to change the subject.

"How delightful," I commented lightly. _Really. I had no desire to get my wand weighed by some buffoon. _

Cedric shrugged.

_If I get to miss the greasy bat's class I certainly won't complain._

"Thanks, Cedric," I nodded at Cedric as I got up. My next destination, Hagrid's.

_**A/N - This one might seem a bit weird. It is suddenly in first POV for no other reason than my laziness.**_

_**Please let me know if you would like see more of this story. I will work accordingly.**_


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